


I Need to Remember You Just Like This

by paladin_piper, SlightlyOff7



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Blood Kink, Cunnilingus, F/M, Grey Warden Stamina, Inappropriate Anchor Use, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Here Lies the Abyss, Reaver Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22957357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladin_piper/pseuds/paladin_piper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyOff7/pseuds/SlightlyOff7
Summary: Warden Commander Cecilia Cousland and Inquisitor Maxwell Trevelyan are alone for the first time since Adamant. Emotions ensue.
Relationships: Cousland/Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Female Cousland/Male Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Male Inquisitor/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	I Need to Remember You Just Like This

**Author's Note:**

> This fic began as a Discord RP between myself and SlightlyOff7 that we decided to transition into a fic!  
> "Canon divergence" means that in this AU, Cecilia and Max meet after Alistair sacrifices himself to the Archdemon. By DAI, they've been together for quite a few years. Cecilia left to find the Cure alongside SlightlyOff7's Warden Commander Leo Mahariel (a Lelianamancer), and as they returned to society, the Conclave exploded and Max became the Herald of Andraste. Instead of Loghain or Stroud, Cecilia was the Warden Contact for Max.  
> At Adamant, Cecilia and my Garrett Hawke fell into the Fade with Max, and Max chose to leave Garrett behind. This takes place directly after that once they're back at Skyhold.  
> Enjoy!

They were alone. After multiple miserable days of awkward travel from Adamant back to Skyhold crammed between troves of newly-rehomed Wardens, they were alone. The night winds of the Frostbacks were whistling against the glass panes of the balcony doors in the Inquisitor’s study, and the soft light of a hunter’s moon cast the whole suite in muted tones.

Max Trevelyan did not even know how to begin to sort out all of the emotions swirling through him. A high of fear, a low of distress, guilt, selfishness. How could he be holy enough to decide the fate of someone, and given the choice between the woman he loves and a man who was a champion… it simply wasn’t fair. And the weight on his shoulders as he looked at Cecilia Cousland, hearing her begs to let her save him, to let him leave her. The screams. How she pulled at his hands as he held her beside him while Hawke gave a simple nod and ran towards the Nightmare at Max’s choice. The fact that she was so  _ willing  _ to give herself up for him.

He knew that if he were in her position, he wouldn’t be willing to do the same. And Max felt  _ shame  _ for that. Maybe he would have been willing to give himself up, if he had no one waiting for him on the other side. But not when there would be Cecilia to go back to.

Cecilia Cousland stared back at Max, the few feet between them feeling like a mountain range. A Warden’s life is sacrifice. That sentiment had been drilled into her head over and over again. She drilled it into her Wardens’ heads over and over again.  _ A Warden’s life is sacrifice.  _ The reminder of it hung around her neck, every step making it ring in her ears. Fighting the Nightmare, letting Max and Garrett escape -- that would have been a sacrifice. A more mighty death than dying to the Darkspawn. 

But how  _ dare  _ she be so selfish? So willing to die for a cause? She would never want to cause Max the same pain she felt nearly a decade ago atop Fort Drakon. Drawing in a deep breath, she crossed the expanse and wrapped her arms around Max in silence, his own immediately encircling her shoulders. Words wouldn’t work well enough here to express how she felt in the moment. So she sighed and shifted, arms tightening around Max’s waist. It was all she could think of doing at the moment.

With how tight he held her against him, drawing in breaths became difficult. Max shuddered against Cecilia, his breath catching in his throat. When she looked up at him, all Max could do was stare down at her and place a hand on her cheek, Fade green eyes glittering with unshed tears.

Cecilia opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Written on Max’s face was fear, relief, exhilaration, pain. A tear threatened to fall, but Cecilia reached up and brushed it away before it could.

“Max, you do know that if you start to cry, then I will too, yes?” She whispered, her bottom lip wavering despite her half-smile. Cecilia turned her head to press a gentle kiss to Max’s palm, then she rested her head against his hand. Thin fingers wrapped around a strong wrist, an attempt to keep Max centered with her.

“I… I was so stupid,” she admitted. Cecilia couldn’t bear to bring her voice above a whisper, for fear of it cracking. Cracking like the world cracked around them in the Fade when the Nightmare appeared. “I can’t ask you to forgive me, but know what I said was not out of malice or to hurt you. I did it because I love you; I couldn’t risk you getting hurt because of this mess I dragged you into.”

The watery chuckle Max tried to let out got stuck in his throat, and it ended up sounding more like a garbled half-sob. He’s quick to wipe his eyes before Cecilia can, struggling to keep it together. He can still see it so clearly — the Fade swirling around them, the passion in Cecilia’s eyes as she screamed at him.  _ “Max, Maxwell, let me do this! I need to do this! For you! Let me go, please!” _

His eyes may have been red and puffy — he was never good at hiding his tears — but he was holding it together for now. For her sake. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just… Maker, Cece, you don’t have to apologize. You’re not stupid. You’re the bravest and kindest damn person I’ve ever met. And…” a shaky exhale escaped Max as he chewed over his next words. “This isn’t your mess. It’s ours. It’s the world’s. At least—“ 

Something behind Max’s eyes snapped, and all of a sudden his words sped up, like he was trying to get them all out while he still could. "That's what everyone keeps telling me, that we're supposed to be saving the world. And I want to believe that's what I'm trying to do, but in  _ there _ , with that  _ thing _ , I.....all I could think was that I couldn't go back to a world without you in it. I just  _ couldn't _ . And even if that makes me weak, I-", 

Max’s voice broke, words crackling and fading into oblivion. But he was able to choke out the last few before the tears threatened to fall again. "I love you. More than anything. And I don't think I'd ever have slept again if I knew you were still there, with that...." He didn’t finish his thought; he just pushed his forehead into Cece's and closed his eyes, shaking against her.

Cecilia brushed her thumbs over Max’s cheeks as his forehead pressed against hers. She figured she was crying as well by how the world blurred around her: but Max was there, clear as day in the center of it all. “Shh, shh… I won’t leave you, not again. Never again.”

A little voice in her head awakens.  _ Not like you left him last time? When will you tell him you found the Cure? Leo already has it, surely he’ll mention something to Max soon. You could have fixed it all long ago by telling him about the Cure—  _ She ignored those thoughts for now, pushing them into a corner of her mind. Those were for another day: right now, all she cared about was Max and fixing the mess she made.

“I’m right here. I have been, and I will be. Always, for you. You’re not weak for feeling like this. This doesn’t make you weak, because I love you too.” Cecilia swallowed around a lump that formed around those words, then leaned in to press their trembling lips together. Max wanted to linger, she could feel it, but she broke the kiss before he could. “I love you, so much. I will never leave you again.”

A declaration. A promise. To who? Max, or herself?

A second kiss, another brush of her gloved fingers over Max’s cheeks to collect his tears. His lips chase hers, following up with a quick peck, but firmer than the prior kisses. “No matter what happens, I will always be by your side. No matter what; this, I swear.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Max whispered, both of his hands coming to frame her face before pressing a kiss to her brow. When he looked into her eyes, they were shining like his, and for the thousandth time since he met her, he wanted to thank the Maker for letting him hold something so lovely. "I'm going to  _ hold you to that. _ Because I'm yours, and I always will be. The only place I ever want to be is by your side. Anywhere." 

“You’d better hold me to it, because I will most certainly hold you to your words,” is the most Cecilia managed to say before Max kissed her again. This kiss wasn’t as soft — it was firm and needy, and she felt Max’s tongue swipe at her lips. There was a pressure, urgency, behind the movement of his lips; she couldn’t remember the last time she kissed him, which is shameful in it of itself. But that didn’t matter, because the way Max’s tongue darted across her lips, the way his hands framed her face and how his fingers glided over her skin made all of those troubles melt away.

_ They’re alive.  _ Max tasted that life in her kiss, apples and honey and a hint of tobacco wraps mixed with something sweet that he would never be able to call anything but her. Cecilia felt that life in the way they moved against one another, each breath mirrored in the other as their mouths moved together. The movements were familiar, yet never lacking in need. Max knew every button to push in the kiss, and  _ Maker,  _ she had forgotten how good of a kisser he was. Little did she know, Max was doing his best to sear this feeling into his memory. 

They were each other’s homes, homes that have been perilously close to being lost twice now. Max silently swore as their tongues glided over each other’s that if he had to die some day, he wanted her taste on his lips when he goes. Cecilia let herself fall, deeper and deeper, allowing herself to give in and open up every facet of herself to Max.

A whimper escaped Cecilia and Max swallowed it, a heat building in his stomach. That heat flared into a fire as Cecilia clenched his bottom lip between her teeth as their kiss broke, pulling gently and letting go of it with a wet  _ pop. _

_ Fuck, the things she does to me,  _ Max thought to himself,  _ it’s unfair.  _

Strong hands slid down to soft hips, pulling her flush against him. Max pressed his mouth to Cecilia’s again, his hands sliding down further to cup her ass and hoist her up so he didn’t need to hunch over her. Cecilia let out a soft noise of surprise as her feet left the ground, long legs wrapping around his waist. Stepping backwards, Max started to walk towards the large bed in the middle of his room, moving blindly as every sense was filled with Cecilia.

The feelings of Max’s hands on her was enough to drive her mad, but it was the way he clung to Cecilia with every step, the fire behind his kisses; it was driving her  _ wild.  _ One of Cecilia’s favorite things about Max had always been his strength; the fact that sometimes she could make that strength melt away and turn him into a puddle made her love it even more. Dragging her mouth away from his, she ghosted her lips down the long expanse of his neck, leaving light kisses in her wake. Once she found the spot that she knew would make Max gasp, she bit down and marked her territory with her lips, tongue, and teeth. The plaintive groan Max let out made Cecilia’s heart flutter, and she reveled in the sound as she forced a dark blue bruise to bloom on tanned skin. 

As soon as Max’s legs hit the soft edge of his featherbed, he turned, bent, and laid Cecilia onto it. He remained standing, his hips framed by her legs as they hung off of the ledge. Another kiss is exchanged, this one hard and rough and migrating to the corner of her lips, her cheeks, the line of her jaw. It moved further and further until Max reached the spot under her jaw where his Reaver senses let him almost  _ hear  _ the blood rushing through her carotid artery. He laved his tongue against it briefly, inhaling that heady musk that he could never pin down, but the thrumming in Max’s ears and nose told him that it was something in her blood. Her pulse was fast but steady, and he briefly let its rhythm entrance him in the simple joy of them being  _ alive. _

Then Max’s teeth close and he nipped, lightly, but more than enough to know she’ll still have his mark in the morning.  _ Good,  _ he thought, the voice in his head huskier and lower.  **_Mine._ **

A breath caught in Cecilia’s throat at the feeling of Max’s teeth on her skin. Her heartbeat sped, but she knew that was what Max wanted. Large hands slid back up her sides and over her chest, and the flash in his eyes as their gazes met was fleeting, but hungry.  _ Feral.  _ There was a soft squeeze of her breasts before Max’s fingers occupied themselves with the off-white laces of her top, making her chuckle.

She knew her face must have already been flushed, because she could feel the heat radiating off of it; Max was the one person Cecilia could never hide her excitement from. Maker be damned, he could read her like a book sometimes. But he was focused on her laces, tied into a double knot with a bow, and Cecilia took the opportunity to squeeze her thighs and roll her hips. The feeling has a low groan escaping her, and Cecilia quickly pulled her hair from its bum, letting her long black locks tumble across the mattress.

Max barely stifled a breathy  _ fuck,  _ pulling back to catch a flushed face and pouty lip being kneaded between her teeth. She hoped the look would encourage Max not to hold back; she may have been delicate, but Max knew better than anyone else that she was not made of glass. The second roll of her hips had Max’s eyes fluttering closed ever so briefly, and he moved against her in her languid motion. Cecilia giggled, trying so very hard to distract Max as he continued to work open her tunic. 

(Max thought his hands might be trembling slightly. He was too lost in Cecilia to try and find out.)

“Need some help, Ser?” Cecilia teased Max with his title, her voice low and smooth. 

“I might,” Max said with a grin slightly tinged by sheepishness. Even in these kinds of moments, Cecilia always knew how to make him laugh and lift his spirits. His hands moved up to her shoulders, thumbs coming to rest over the neckline of her tunic, their pads stroking over soft skin. “Or I could ask how much you like this shirt.”

Max’s grin went from amused to salacious. Soft lines on his face turned into sharp angles in an instant, fast enough to make a quivering breath escape her. But Cecilia played coy, looking away from Max and humming below her shaking breath. The scar on her jawline is bared to him, with the bruise he left on her just below it. From the dull ache of the bruise, she already knew the mark will have grown by the morn. 

_ Good,  _ she thought to herself, hands coming to rest over Max’s. It was the possession behind the bite, the knowledge that the others at Skyhold will know that only one person could make one of the most powerful women in Ferelden fall to her knees in service that made it so exquisite. Even more so, that person just so happened to be the Inquisitor. The Herald of Andraste. Pious in person, but perverse behind closed doors. The contrast was titillating.

“Oh, it’s rather old. Certainly not one of my favorites,” Cecilia purred, looking out of the corners of her eyes at Max, awaiting his reaction. “And certainly  _ not _ tight enough for your tastes.”

“Not loose enough, more like,” Max’s smile grew at her words, a flash of white against the darkness wrapped around his form from the soft moonlight peering through his bedroom’s windows. Strong hands gripped the shirt by its collar and Max yanked; he was still cognizant enough to make sure the fabric tore down and out so as not to jerk it against her neck. The laces he fumbled over snap apart with ease, and he tossed the scraps behind him before letting his eyes unashamedly roam and drink Cecilia in. Cecilia relaxed under his gaze, stretching her arms over her head and letting them rest on her hair. Her breasts rose and fell with every soft breath, and the subtle flex of the muscles gracing her taut belly nearly drove Max to full distraction.

“Maker, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, and Cecilia felt a shiver run down her spine. Even after all of these years together, Max’s simple compliments still made her cheeks go warm and her eyes dart away. “And turnabout’s fair play.”

Cecilia watched as Max’s fingers found the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal abs hardened over years of hard training. When the collar caught around his throat, Cecilia could barely contain her giggle as Max simply pulled harder, and the sound of his tunic ripping filled the room. The noncompliant fabric was tossed with the fabric of what was once her tunic, and then their eyes met once more. They drank in the sight of each other, if only momentarily, before Max hooked his fingers through the waistband of her breeches and pulled her back to him. Lips met once more, and Cecilia lifted herself up to wrap her arms around Max. 

The anchor splayed against the small of her back buzzed gently, sending a warm sensation across the naked skin. Cecilia carded her hands through Max’s hair, worn long and loose. She adored the way Max sighed into their kisses at the gentle touches, and  _ salivated  _ over the way his breath hitched when she dug her nails against the base of his neck. It was so… primal, and she gasped as Max rubbed his thumb over her already-pebbled nipple.

Max had a beautiful dichotomy to him in Cecilia’s eyes: he was a gentle giant, tender and sweet, yet rough and primal and prone to giving into his more carnal desires. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

Nails scratched down Max’s back, hard enough to leave raised red welts in their path that she’ll kiss and lavish once the sun rose tomorrow morning. But for now, she reveled in Max’s reaction, knowing that the pain would only add more fuel to the fire burning within him. 

Max heard his own blood start pumping in his ears at the sting of her nails in his back. There was a dull, throbbing ache in his chest that he now knew to be the Fereldan Frostback’s ichor coursing through his heart. That taint was forever interwoven with his own human essence, and the only times it ever burnt like this was during the heat of battle and the heat of Cecilia’s embrace.

_ And oh, it feels so good. _

It was like being on the edge of drunk, flush with power and dazed by the woman who let him have it. The lines on his back didn’t hurt any more -- well, actually, they did, but the pain metamorphosed into pleasure, an incessant itch spurring him on. He knew what he wanted, and by the glimmer in Cecilia’s lavender eyes, she knew as well. She teased her tongue against his, then broke the kiss with a rough noise being pulled from the back of her throat. Max’s eyes looked like emeralds with the moonlight caught in them, a black center slowly blooming in them. 

“Tell me what you want from me.” She purred, pulling her fingers from Max’s hair and resting them behind her, giving Max full access to her body. His eyes raked down her form once more, quick as a flash, before he leaned forward again. Cecilia felt his lips against her collarbone, sucking another bloom onto her pale skin, while his hands went to the ties of her breeches. 

"I want..." There's no hesitation in his hands anymore. Max has done this so many times he can do it blind. "I want to taste you." As he loosened them, he trailed his mouth down her torso, across the slope of a breast to briefly swirl his tongue around a nipple. He continued his progress down to her stomach so he could savor the feel of her breath expanding and contracting her abs, before cheekily dipping his tongue in and out of her navel. Cece laughed at that, squirming slightly, and Max grinned up at her before he pressed his hand to where his mouth just was and pushed her flat onto the bed. "I want to hear you." His hands curled into the waistband of her now loose pants, and he pulled them off in one smooth motion, before stepping back to kneel at the foot of the bed. Max’s hands then went to the crook of Cecilia’s knees, and pulled her forward so her rump was resting just on the edge of the mattress, legs dangling until he hitched her calves over his shoulders. Max let out a heated breath against her inner thigh as he spoke, one that made Cecilia’s heels dig into his back in anticipation. "I want you to scream my name and tell me exactly how I make you feel, over and over until I earn my reward." The roughness in his voice and the intent behind the words made Cecilia tremble, every nerve reacting to his touch. The way his fingers slid over her skin as he adjusted her; how the filth dripping from his lips was accented by a tone heavy with noble breeding. Max planted one last kiss in between the junction of her hips and thigh, and then bent to his task.

“O- _ oh _ .” His tongue pressed against her and the contrast of cold against hot had Cecilia hissing. She loved it when Max took her like this, open and spread to the world; in moments like these, she knew she was thoroughly, utterly his. And  _ Maker _ , she wouldn’t have it any other way. Digging her heels into Max’s back, she shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath and rare scruff burning her thighs. This feeling was nothing but pleasure, and spindles prickled in her fingertips when she buried her digits in his locks, pushing long bangs back so she could gaze down at him and watch as he worked his tongue over her. A strong nose was framed by soft black curls as long, languid licks slid across her sex. But by that glint in his eyes, she could tell that Max did not intend for the gentleness to continue for long. Her thighs framed his cheekbones, her chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. Cecilia knew that the embarrassing flush of exertion was already spreading downwards over her pale skin, and a curse slipped from her lips.

“Max --  _ fuck  _ \-- you’re so good. Don’t you dare stop now.”

“As you command, my lady,” Max murmured against her, and the vibrations of his voice and heavy breaths sent shivers down her legs. Her words were only a momentary pause, then he tilted his head back to continue his work. 

_ Maker,  _ he loved to watch her while he did this. It made Max feel so powerful, seeing this normally fierce and composed noblewoman come undone underneath his ministrations. He added a finger, at first just stroking where his tongue couldn’t be all at once. Cecilia’s fingers tugged at his hair, pulling it into messy peaks and loose knots. That was all the encouragement Max needed, and he gently slid the finger inside of her and focused his mouth’s attention on her clit. All he needed was a few delicious moments of feeling Cecilia’s legs tighten around his head; he glanced up once more, pulling just far enough away to run the tip of his tongue over his lips, glossy with her wetness. "C'mon, sweetling, tell me how this is. Let me know how you feel."

“It feels…” Cecilia voice trailed off into a breathy half-laugh, half-moan as Max slid his finger in and out of her in a delectably slow manner. All she could do to stop herself from losing it right then and there was to fix Max’s hair, pushing down a tuft that was stuck straight up. Her thumb slid down, stroking over a temple peppered with perspiration.

“It feels… like the room is spinning around us, and you’re the only thing keeping me centered, even though you’re the one making it spin… But it also feels like you’re talking too much--” a smirk crossed Cecilia’s face, and she playfully squeezed her thighs around his head, “-- and nowhere near close to earning that reward you mentioned.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to give it to me so easily, but, challenge received.” Max sealed his mouth over Cecilia’s clit, giving it a prolonged suck and making sure to let the tips of his upper teeth just barely graze her clit, before running the full length of his tongue over her with as much pressure as he could manage. A strangled gasp was Cecilia’s response, and Max’s glistening lips were pulled into a smirk as an idea formed in his mind.

He dragged his tongue over the index and middle fingers of his left hand, his face just high enough to put on a show for a dizzy Cecilia. The light of his mark made his eyes appear to glow from within as a small spark formed between his fingertips. As Max learned back in to refocus his tongue’s attention on her clit, his fingers made their way back inside of Cecilia’s cunt and they crooked  _ just so  _ to allow his glowing palm to lightly brush her.

Cecilia’s hips gave a stuttering jump as the low vibration she had felt against her back were now humming against her mound, and even the two fingers inside her seemed to be trembling at a similar, if less intense, frequency. “Fuck, Max.”

The hand that Max had previously used was now smoothed across her stomach, pressing down ever so briefly to remind her to stay in her position. But Cecilia couldn’t help herself, and she ground down on Max’s face, unabashedly stuttering against the hand putting pressure on her stomach. It only lingered for a moment, before it wound its way back down to firmly squeeze her ass.

Beneath the surface of the hand pressed against her, a fire burned. Cecilia would have been embarrassed at how quickly Max was making her come undone if she wasn’t so impressed with his ingenuity. She stroked her thumb over his temple, encouraging him: she trusted him, so much, and that trust extended straight into their bed. 

“You’re so good, my love,” her murmur melded into a hiss as Max’s hand gripped her ass with enough pressure that little pinprick bruises would surely dot her skin tomorrow morning. “You make me feel whole--  _ Fuck!” _

Max’s hand shifted, slipping between the curve of her ass. A cold, slick finger pressed against her hole, and Cecilia stiffened if only for a moment. Then a wave of relaxation washed over her, and she ran her fingers through his hair, a teasing tone overtaking her voice. “Oh, eager tonight, are we?”

Max’s eyes met hers, and Cecilia nodded down towards him, settling against the bed and preparing herself. “After these last few weeks, I’ll take any opportunity to feel you inside of me, my love.”

The sensation of him entering her was not painful, but her toes curled against the skin of his back and Cecilia dug her nails into his scalp, pulling Max’s mouth and tongue flush against her clit. She was completely filled, utterly his, and stars danced in front of her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling. “S-Sweet  _ Maker. _ ”

Max couldn’t bear to take his mouth away, not when he was finally pulling the sounds from Cecilia he so desperately wanted to her. But it was harder than he expected to remain focused on her pleasure rather than the obscenities pouring from her mouth. Because for as much as the heat in his belly wanted to run wild --  _ was  _ running wild, as the the tightness in his breeches could attest -- it wasn’t enough to overcome the way he could feel his heart swell at her declarations. The Maker as his witness, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt complete without Cecilia at his side. He wanted to tell her how worthy she made him feel, how honored he was that she allowed him to see this side of her, how amazed he was that she trusted him to take care of her like this. Cecilia deserved everything he could give her and more, so much more, so much more, and it was his greatest mission in life to give that to her.

Thrice-blasted hole in his hand be damned.

Max knew now that he was not some chosen favorite of the Maker, or even Andraste. He was simply some knight who was in the right place in the right time, and that paled in comparison to the great mission he was actually chosen for: being everything he possibly could be to the woman writing underneath him, with her legs firmly locked around his head in just the way they’ve learned drove him mad. 

He’s  _ hers.  _ He was hers, and she was his, and it was only right for him to be on his knees right now because every kiss he pressed to her was a prayer for her pleasure and her happiness.

As carefully as he could, Max tried to let a little more of the Fade in through his palm. Ever since they returned from the Fade, it felt like he had taken a piece of that place back with him.  _ I probably did,  _ he thought, remembering briefly the dreams he reached into, and the way he could feel them each reaching back into him, just a little. But that didn’t matter -- the only thing that mattered was that if he has more of anything in him, it’s more to give to Cecilia.

Max was gentle with his other finger, moving it sparingly and giving her time to adjust. But he also kept it in rhythm with his tongue and fingers focused on her other hole. The last thing Max would want to do is cause her pain -- at least, not this time -- all he wanted was that fullness to help her along to her peak.

Cecilia’s devotion to Max was astounding. The buzz, the pressure, the pleasure; they all burned and built between the legs that framed Max’s face. Max, the man who swept her off of her feet with a glance across a ballroom all those years ago. Max, who she trusted with her life, trusted enough to let him push the energy of the Fade against her sex; an energy that made her toes curl and her head press back against the pillows in esctasy. As a Maker-fearing woman, she should reject the sensation. By all accounts of the Chant, it was unnatural and unholy, but she also remembered what she saw by Max’s side in the Fade. Nothing made sense any more. The only things that made sense right now were Max’s mouth, fingers, cock, smirk, eyes,  _ Max. _

His name became a moan that rolled off Cecilia’s tongue without a breath. It was followed by a roll of her hips, soaking Max’s face as she tried to draw in more of his fingers, feel more of his tongue against her. She craved him, wanted him, needed him: all and every part of him. The pressure building was too much to ignore, especially with the way her legs quivered and shook around him.

“F-- _ fuck, _ ” Cecilia swore, biting down on a knuckle. She struggled to save her screams, but they still bubbled at the back of her throat. “Fuck me, fuck, fuck,  _ Max! _ ” 

Cecilia’s voice crescendoed, pitch rising as Max coaxed her to her peak… and then she spilled, her hip slamming down on Max’s face hard enough that, in the moment, she fears she may have given him a bloody nose, while a scream of his name was ripped from her lips. All she could think about was Max, and a jumbled mumble of his name interspersed with professions of love slipped out of her mouth as the orgasm rocked her. Her body shook, red and raw and open. 

Max was thrilled as he felt Cecilia go taut against him, and at the plaintive sound of his name on her lips, he had to hold himself back from springing up and taking her right then and there. But that wasn’t an option a moment later, as her legs pulled him forward and her hips bucked into his face, hard enough that he lost the space needed to breathe (not that he cared about that). He felt her nectar soak his face, and his only thought at the moment was to  _ keep at it.  _ He tried to hold her peak as long as he could, licking and sucking and pressing until her legs finally splayed and he heard her breath rattle harshly out of her chest. 

After a few moments, Cecilia’s heartbeat began to slow down, and a soft giggle escaped her as she came back down to the world. “I....  _ Max. _ Goodness....”

He took the liberty of one last swipe of his tongue along the length of her sex, relishing the taste of her and taking pride in the way he could feel her tremble against him in the aftershocks. Max’s ministrations leave Cecilia buzzing, with a lopsided smile plastered on her face. All she wanted was to keep her legs wrapped around his face as long as possible, Inquisitorial duties and the world be damned. Surely it could survive one day without the Hero of Andraste leading the fight! But Cecilia’s body protested and her legs gave out.

Max was finally able to take a deep breath, and he gently removed his fingers from her, first the one in the back, followed by the two in the front. He casually wiped them off on the sheets while his knees creaked in gratitude at finally getting to settle on the featherbed again. They laid next to one another, his marked hand on her stomach and her face resting on his chest, both of them watching the light in his hand fade back to its usual dull glow.

“Thank you for letting me try that, my love. I'm glad you enjoyed it." His expression turned slightly more sheepish. "I know we've both had enough of the Fade for a lifetime, but I reason if I'm stuck with this......Anchor, or whatever it is, the most I could use it for is in your service. Thank you for my reward." 

When Cecilia looked up at him, she saw Max’s smirk was back, and her lips quickly mirrored his. “It certainly was interesting. And unexpected.” She hummed, fingers gliding down Max’s tanned stomach, over taut muscles chiseled from years of chevalier training. “I loved it, thank you.”

Calloused fingertips came to rest on the waistline of Max’s breeches, and from the pressure against her thigh alone, Cecilia could tell that Max was  _ more  _ than ready for round two. Max himself didn’t think he could get any stiffer after the display she put on, but that was proven false as he felt her fingers stray down to the laces of his pants, the bow undone with one gentle pull. It was almost painful, how badly he wanted her; the pain was abated somewhat when he felt the laces go loose. A deep groan rumbled out of his chest at the release of the tension, his hips canting forward slightly in eagerness. 

The noise Max made was as satisfying as Cecilia imagined it to be, and she stroked her hand down to grab Max’s length through the fabric of his breeches. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed, and heard the quiet little  _ “mmm _ ” that escaped him as she gave him a gentle squeeze. His cock was thick and heavy, and she could already imagine how well his girth would stretch her to her limits. Leaning upwards, Cecilia pressed a kiss to the skin behind Max’s ear, then purred into it. 

“How will you fuck me, dear Inquisitor? Like your lover, or your whore? Gentle and slow, or shall we break the bed once more?”

Her breathy question had Max’s blood roaring hot again; Gods above, on most other nights he would already have had her legs in the air and his hand on her throat after the way she squeezed him ever so slightly on the word  _ whore,  _ but the urge just wasn’t there.  _ Cecilia should have more tonight,  _ he thought,  _ something to remind her of how deeply she’s loved.  _ Gently, he rested his hands on her shoulders and settled them both on the mattress. His wide hips framed hers, and his weight was partially settled on Cecilia to keep her centered. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” he whispered huskily, pressing a wet kiss to her cheek. The way he said the command had Cecilia’s breath catching in her throat, and she nodded. A shiver danced down her spine;  _ he intended to take her as a lover tonight. _ Long legs wound around a solid waist, a scarred and tattooed thigh framing a hip with nary a mark on it. She looked up at Max and silently wondered to herself if this was all still a dream. That any moment now she would wake up and still be in the Fade. Because sometimes it felt like that there was no way Cecilia could be so lucky as to have Max after all of the pain she both caused and went through in her life to get to where she was today.

Max leaned back up and looked down at Cecilia for a moment. Her hair was fanned out beneath her like liquid night, and her beautiful violet eyes were looking up at him like he was the only thing in the world. Once again, Max silently thanked his Maker that they managed to make it this far together. Then he snaked a hand down between them to grasp and position himself.  _ Fuck _ , he heard his voice in his head say as he felt her heat on the tip of his cock. That heat only grew as he started to slide in, Cecilia's fingers twisting the bedsheets into knots as Max filled her, and he couldn’t stop the frankly embarrassing groan he let out as he felt her move, tight and slick around him. She loved the noises he made, every guttural exhalation that made his face flush and every hiss that makes the muscles of his neck stand out. Settling beneath him, Cecilia rolled her hips playfully and melted into the bed at his reaction. His hands found hers, gripping them tight, and he pulled her up and onto his lap, letting out another moan as she sank down onto him fully. " _ Gods _ , Cecilia," he ground out, teeth gritted with pleasure, "You feel like heaven."   
  


“I...  _ Maker _ .” A soft curse fell from Cecilia’s lips, lips she was sure would be swollen in the morning, followed by a gentle chuckle. She pressed another kiss to Max’s lips, soft and slow. “Ready?” A delirious grin and a nod was his answer. The first lift had a tingle dancing through her legs, and Cecilia could barely hide her grin at the rush that ran through her as she slid back down on Max’s cock. It was better than any lyrium hit she could ever imagine. The second bounce was faster, and it made her toes curl. “Maker’s breath, Max,” she exhaled, words dissolving into a soft moan as their movements begin to find a rhythm. “You fit so wonderfully inside of me.”

Max could feel fireworks behind his eyelids as they started to move together, but he forced them to stay open because the little emotions that played across Cecilia's face as he filled her were the most addictive thing he had ever found in this world. He wanted to drink her in, every bit of her, every moment they got to have like this, the two of them lost in each other. Her lips were curved in the shape of a smile but parted as breathy little moans left it, and he wanted  _ more _ of those sounds. 

He took their still joined hands and placed Cecilia’s on his shoulders, his own going to her hips so he could help her continue building the pace they were setting together. As was his new normal, he tried to be careful about the novel strength in his hands that he still didn’t know how to fully control, but  _ Maker help him _ , he could never resist taking a tight grip on the soft skin of her waist. He loved the way her flesh dimpled between his fingers. He let out a hiss when Cecilia dug her nails in on a particularly hard bounce, his hips snapping up briefly of their own volition to chase her heat as she moved to sit up again. A sinful roll of her hips was her response, and the feeling of it made his jaw drop open, a harsh moan trailing into the heated words he growls against her ear. "Fucking...... _ hell _ , Cece. You're so perfect.  _ Ugh _ ."

Max might have treated her like a lover, but he fucked her like an animal. And Cecilia  _ loved  _ it. She loved that, even in their most tender moments, there are still bites and scratches and hissed swears. Cecilia pulled away from a kiss that was started in the jumble of establishing a rhythm, and she made sure to catch Max’s bottom lip between her teeth. The skin will be flush and swollen in the morning, but she didn’t care. They both loved the marks they left on the other; Max returned her bite with one of his own, leaning down to leave a mark between her breasts. 

His mouth trailed back up over supple skin, breathing in Cecilia’s scent and lapping up the sweat beading on the column of her throat. Max could feel the tide of pleasure rising within him, and he needed an anchor. Sliding his lips down her neck, his mouth found her shoulder and he sunk his teeth in. Max was still conscious enough not to bite down too hard, but it was enough that the bruise in the morning would be nasty and dark. A marked hand rose to palm one of her breasts, fingers tweaking and stroking her nipple as he marked her skin with his mouth.

Creaking beneath them, the bed voiced its protests to their ministrations. But Cecilia didn’t care; her fingers twisted in Max’s locks as she rode him. Hips stroked forward and back, forward and back, a tantalizing rhythm that made spots burn in her vision when her gaze met Max’s. For being such a paragon of holiness, Max looked anything but in her eyes at that moment. The feral hormones of sex drove both of their tainted bloods wild, and Cecilia curled a finger under Max’s chin and dragged him into a crashing kiss that made her ears buzz.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her nose brushing his. “I adore you. I need you to fill me. I  _ need  _ you, Max.  _ Please. _ ”

Their lips met again and Max tensed as he felt Cecilia’s teeth on his lip, the familiar pain a dull, sweet burn that made him rock his hips faster in response. He couldn’t get enough of her: he never could. Max could feel her arousal dripping onto his lap now, and the slick sensation combined with the feeling of her wrapped around him, legs tensing and shuddering and so  _ tight  _ had him moaning against her skin.  _ Maker,  _ he wished he could be quieter sometimes so he could hear every little breath she took, but he was helpless to stop the noises of satisfaction she pulled from him.

When the kiss broke, Cecilia could feel the dark flush spreading across her cheeks and down to her chest. Max wanted to kiss every inch of her face, but the way she begged with her eyes he knew that wasn’t what she needed tonight. 

Instead, he tipped them down and pushed Cecilia into the bed, snapping his hips forwards with bruising force and corkscrewing them around each time he bottomed out within her. Cecilia mewed his name in pleasure, fingers gripping the bed sheets so tight they began to fray under her hand. She couldn’t speak so she simply looked up at Max, body shaking with each thrust. All she could do was cling to the sheets and stare, hoping that Max knew that this was exactly what she needed after all of the bullshit they had been through.

"You've got me," he said harshly, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You've always got me. Sweet  _ Andraste _ , Cece, I love you so much. You make me feel so good. I'm yours. I'm yours." He drove down again at the end of each sentence, doing his best to follow her instructions and fill her completely.

“I--I love you too,” she breathed, pressing her face into Max’s shoulder. Biting into the soft skin, Cecilia left a bruise that she knew would be a pain to hide in the morning, but she didn’t care. 

“I love you,” she mumbled, dragging her nails down Max’s back and reveling in the groan that escaped him. Cecilia squeezed her thighs around him, shuddering every time Max swirled and snapped his hips. Sometimes, she felt like he was about to tear her apart when they fucked. Feral, filling,  _ fuck.  _ The room was spinning, heat building.  _ Please.  _

“I love you,” Cecilia’s voice was more of a sob than anything else at this point. Her arms tightened around his neck, legs shaking around him. Her heated declarations stoked the fire in Max's belly further, and his hips became a blur as he heard her voice rise in pitch and desperation.  _ Come on, sweetheart _ , he thinks,  _ Cum for me. Let me feel you. Let me know how good I make you feel. _

“I-- I--  _ Max! _ ” Cecilia screamed his name, a Maker-to-honest scream that bounced off the stone walls and high ceiling of Max’s room as her body spasmed with her orgasm. This second orgasm was always stronger than her first, and she soaked Max’s cock and the sheets below them as she came. Blood pooled under her nails as she clung to Max’s back, tears of pleasure dripping down her round cheeks. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckme _ pleaseharderplease. _ ”

One hand gripped her hip, one was braced against the sheets, and at the sound of her screaming his name Max struggled to keep himself from spilling as she clenched around him. Not before he could give her every last bit of pleasure he could wring out of her perfect body. The feeling of her orgasm around him was the best sensation he had ever found in this world, and when he caught sight of the tears leaking from her eyes, the sound of the blood roaring in his ears was so loud it deafened him. Cecilia was saying something, her lips moving frantically while her eyes begged just as loud, but for the life of him Max couldn’t make it out.

_ Andraste’s tits,  _ she had robbed him of his senses.

But it was encouragement, he was sure of that much, so his hands moved to either side of her head and gripped the sheets so hard he could feel them tear under his fingers. Max didn’t care. He moved his legs apart, spreading her open and bracing them against the toned muscles of her calves, hard as steel as they clenched in ecstasy. He looked down at her, expecting her to stop him, but all Cecilia did was nod, eyes spaced out and head half-lolled to the side as the tears continued to fall. So Max pulled himself forward with his hands fisted in the sheets, putting every last bit of strength he had into his thrusts. His mouth fell open as he sucked in shallow breaths, completely unaware of the bellowing noises spilling from him now.

" _ Fuck _ .  **Fuck** .  _ Cece. I lo _ \-  **_ugh_ ** ". 

Cecilia was less tense under him now, the aftershocks of her orgasm starting to wear off, but that didn’t mean the pleasure was fading. Just the opposite -- every nerve in Cecilia’s body was on fire as Max slammed into her. She rose to meet his thrusts, ignoring the fact that the bed was threatening to collapse beneath them. The frame scraped against the floor, the sound of the backboard hitting the wall boomed around the room, and every thrust had little snaps, creaking, and groans echoing from the wood. 

"You're amazing. You're  _ everything _ ." He was close, dangerously so, but he grit his teeth and bit his tongue, trying to keep going the way he knew she wanted him to. Max could taste iron in his mouth, but the sweet tang of his blood helped him center himself.

When they kissed, she could taste blood in his mouth and it set something in Cecilia’s brain off. That damned Power of Blood. It was similar to Max’s Reaver abilities but more… subdued. Dangerous. Lifting her hips, Cecilia shifted her angle and a smirk grew; she caught sight of Max losing his breath just as she found hers. 

“C’mon baby,” she moaned, a hand slipping between them to rub fast circles on her clit. Oh, she knew she would be sore in the morning with how fast Max was pounding into her, but in the moment she didn’t care. “Cum in me, Max. Fuck me harder and fill me up. Show me just how much you need me.”

He could feel the muscles in his groin tightening at her words and the raw streaks she left on his back and shoulders were pulsing and making him lightheaded. And now, seeing how Cecilia touched herself for him? It drove Max mad. Able to come back to himself just long enough to hear the filth pouring from her mouth, Max forced his eyes shut as his body shook.  _ So good. _

If only to encourage Max further down their hedonistic path, Cecilia bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to split it in two, then she grabbed Max by his neck and pulled him into a fiery kiss. It was messy and hot, smearing her blood between them and dripping down her chin. 

Max was close, so close, and then Cecilia’s mouth was on his and—  _ Oh,  _ **_fuck._ **

If Max didn’t know better, he would have thought he was going into his dragon rage again. It felt like being drunk and high and crazed all at once, but instead of the pulsing heat coming from his chest, it was radiating from the space behind his cock. Colors swirl in his vision as he leaned back in and sucked on Cecilia’s split bottom lip, lapping up her essence. When they broke apart, he could barely hold his head up any more, and Cecilia caught sight of bloodshot eyes and pupils so blown-out that the green of his irises were a thin, stark disc against the darkness in them.

Cecilia grinned, looking up at Max under long lashes. “ _ Please _ .”

That simple sound, of her pleading for his release, is all it took to top Max over the edge. It always did, because she owned him and his body and her commands to them are gospel. He let out a strangled moan and his hips lost all rhythm, stuttering wildly against her. Max’s head fell back to Cecilia’s shoulder and his teeth dug in once more, this time gentleness the last thing on his mind as her blood fills his mouth and colors his chin and her scream of pleasure amidst a third orgasm fill his ears. Bucking once, twice, four times, Max finally came, and it felt like his soul left his body alongside the seed he spilt in her.

Cecilia eyes rolled into the back of her head as Max’s cum filled her. The sensation was simply incredible, indescribable. It’s ownership: Max was leaving his mark on her in the most primal of ways. Even with the mess it will leave, she didn’t care. And then there was the face he made; it was one Cecilia could never forget. Blown pupils, bloodstained teeth: Max at his most base Reaver senses. It was unfairly attractive in a way she never expected to be attracted to a man.

Max collapsed with his breath rattling out of him with a great  _ woosh, _ and Cecilia caught him, wrapping her shaking arms and legs around him. Every muscle in both of their bodies felt like liquid, and they laid together, shaking. Max listened to Cecilia’s heart flutter against his ear as Cecilia carded her fingers through his sweaty hair.

When he smelt the blood still dripping down her chin, he couldn’t help but extend his tongue and run it up to her pouty lips again. He lapped up the dark trails of her tainted blood while his heart rate settled and the pounding in his head receded enough to let sound come back. Cecilia let a quiet growl escape her swollen lips, and she gave Max’s hair a playful tug as he pulled away. “You like that?”

Her thumb rubbed over a vein in Max’s neck and she could feel his heart racing, but she knew hers was no slower. So they shared a gentle kiss, careful not to aggravate any wounds since neither of their bodies were in the position to go another round. When Max collapses back against her, Cecilia pressed a kiss to his forehead and squeezed him in her embrace. “Fuck, Max, that was.... I have no words besides I love you. You’re so incredible. I am truly blessed every time we do that.... but the bed is not as lucky. We may have to inform Lady Montilyet that a new bed is to be acquired at one. Something Fereldan-made that won’t break so easily and… oh, Maker, she really is going to kill us.”

Max grinned against Cecilia as a giggle slipped out of her, and a soft hum of agreement bubbled up from his chest. It just felt so  _ right _ to be held by her — Max hadn't realized how much he'd missed her embrace in the year they were apart until he felt himself truly  _ relax _ for the first night in ages when they finally met again. She made him feel so safe. There were no thoughts of Corypheus or the Nightmare in him whenever he was in her arms, only her, always her. 

He finally felt strong enough to move and talk again, his muscles creaking as he rolled over and off of Cecilia and flopped down next to her. “Love, we’ll simply have her have the bed repa—“

And as his weight hit the mattress again, a long, groaning  _ crack _ echoed from the frame and the whole bed dropped a foot as it finally gave way. Max and Cecilia both jumped a little at the sudden shift, before they each burst out laughing; Cecilia’s hand came up to politely cover her mouth while Max let his mirth bounce off the walls. He figured he couldn’t piss Josie off more anyway. "New bed it is, then. New  _ Fereldan _ bed," he said with a smile. 

He turned on his side to look at her, hair askew, lip still bleeding, and he thought for the thousandth time that he had never seen someone so beautiful before. "I love you too, Cece. I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone. You're a gift from the Maker himself, I hope you know that." His smile turned cheeky. "Though I suspect some devil had his hand in your creation to, because the Maker knows nothing about pleasure compared to what you do to me." 

He laid back, an arm winding around her shoulders to pull her close once more. "And if Josie does kill us tomorrow, at least we'll die satisfied." He chuckled at that. "Really, I need to buy that poor woman a cake or something. What do you think about  _ ‘Sorry for the insomnia’ _ ?”

Cecilia let out a giggle at the suggestion, shifting slightly to tuck herself into the crook of her lover’s arm, one of her legs moving to wind itself around one of Max’s in a gesture ripe with familiarity. Her split lip still stung, but Cecilia barely even noticed it amidst the pleasant fuzziness that suffused her head in the afterglow. The sound of splinters crunching underneath them as they got comfortable only widened the grins on their faces, the featherbed moving and swaying oddly as they fixed pillows and crawled into each other’s embrace. Cecilia and Max both sighed as they finally settled, her head pillowed on his bicep and his other arm curled protectively over her stomach. 

“I think that’s the only way you could possibly make her even more distraught with us. I have a suspicion Lady Montilyet would be utterly at her wit’s end if you actually attempted to make a diplomatic overture after what we’ve put her through.” Cecilia felt Max’s laugh tickle her hair, sending a pleasant shiver down her neck that raised gooseflesh and prompted her to snuggle even closer into him. 

“You’re probably right. I should just act totally normal tomorrow, like nothing happened, and then casually mention that I’m going to need to place another order to the best carpenter in Denerim. I’m sure that will go over  _ just fine. _ ” Max snorted at his own jape.

“Well, at least you know by now what to expect.”

“Aye. But luckily, that’s a trial for the morning.” Max yawned, a deep rumbling sound that Cecilia could feel the vibrations of under his skin, before turning to press a kiss to Cecilia’s head. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and she inhaled and exhaled deeply, exhaustion dragging at her aching muscles. 

“Always more trials in the mornings. You’d think the Maker would see fit to give us a respite, every once in a while.” Her voice was rough and wispy, throat ragged from her screams that she was certain must have woken half of Skyhold, and she turned into the bed and Max’s skin as the last traces of adrenaline left her body. 

“I think he probably decided once we had each other, we were all set to face the rest of his creation at once. Only explanation I can give, really.” Max’s voice belied his exhaustion as well, his volume dropping by the word as he sank into the feather mattress.

Cecilia’s voice was barely a whisper. “Well, he hasn’t been wrong yet.” Max was silent behind her for the moment after, and she almost thought he hadn’t heard. But then came another rush of breath against her neck, as much of a laugh as Max could muster, and the last thing Cecilia felt before drifting off to sleep was his lips brushing against her cheek.

* * *

Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose as golden morning light streamed in through the windows of the war room. She’d hardly slept last night, not for the first time, and her head was pounding like the bed she’d heard against the stones of the room above her that evening. She’d finally been able to get some blessed rest while the Inquisitor and Warden-Commander Cousland were out on campaign, but with their return (which Josephine was admittedly thankful for, because as much as their nocturnal activities were a torment, she would always hope for their safe return) her rest had once again been interrupted by their  _ far too enthusiastic  _ sex life. And now she was sitting in the war room nursing her migraine alongside Leliana and Cullen, the three of them waiting for the Inquisitor to finally grace the room with his presence. He was late, of course. He was always late the first night he got back from campaign.

“Do you think he’ll show up at all?” Leliana asked, a smirk teasing her lips. The Spymaster had been in high spirits ever since Warden-Commander Mahariel moved into Skyhold, and Josephine was positive that whoever bunked beneath them got just as much of an earful as she did. “None of my spies have seen him since he and Warden-Commander Cousland returned from Adamant.”

Cullen gave her a bemused smile, adjusting his hand on his sword. “Well, if worst comes to worst, we can always send someone who doesn’t faint easily up there to check on him and make sure he hasn’t passed.”

She looked up as the doors finally swung open, and the sight that greeted her was no surprise. Max looked thoroughly disheveled, his hair askew, and a wonderful collection of purple bruises and love marks mottled his neck and what his tunic displayed of his chest. He was extremely lucky that she had managed to postpone his meeting with Duke de Chalon until tomorrow, because there was simply no hiding the lust soaked into Max’s skin. 

He at least had the decency to look somewhat apologetic for his tardiness, at least until he crossed the room and addressed Josephine as he pulled a sheaf of paper and a quill to himself. 

“Well, Lady Josephine, I do apologize, but it appears I’ll have to make another custom request, this time to a carpenter in Denerim. What’s his name--” The grin on his face was shameless now, and it made his swollen lips even more apparent against his teeth. Josephine merely put her hands to her face, digging the heels into her eyes and rubbing.    
  
“ _ Dios te maldiga. Bastardos cachondos.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! We hope you enjoyed!


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